It
was borne in on Whiskers that he had refused Wunpost a drink on the day
he had walked out of camp, but he was hoping that the slight was
forgotten; for if he could keep him in his saloon all the others would
soon be vacated, now that Wunpost was the talk of the town. He had found
one mine and lost it and gone out and found another one while the rest
of them were wearing out shoe-leather; and a man like that could not be
ignored by the community, no matter if he did curse their town. So
Whiskers chewed on, not daring to claim his friendship, and Wunpost
leaned against the bar.

"Gimme a drink," he said laying fifteen cents before him; and as several
men moved forward he scowled at them in silence and tossed off his
_solamente_. "Cr-ripes!" he shuddered, "did you make that
yourself?" And when Whiskers, caught unawares, half acquiesced, Wunpost
drew himself up and burst forth. "I believe it!" he announced with an
oracular nod, "I can taste the burnt sugar, the fusel oil, the wood
alcohol and everything. One drink of that stuff would strike a stone
Injun blind if it wasn't for this dry desert air. They tell me,
Whiskers, that when you came to this town you brought one barrel of
whiskey with you--and that you ain't ordered another one since. That
stuff is all right for those that like it--I'm going across the street."

He strode out the door, taking the fickle crowd with him and leaving Old
Whiskers to chew the cud of brooding bitterness. In the saloon across
the street a city barkeeper greeted Wunpost affably, and inquired what
it would be. Wunpost asked for a drink and the discerning barkeeper set
out a bottle with the seal uncut. It was bonded goods, guaranteed seven
years in the wood, and Wunpost smacked his lips as he tasted it.

"Have one yourself," he suggested and while the crowd stood agape he
laid down a nugget of gold.

That settled it with Blackwater, they threw their money on the bar and
tried to get him drunk, but Wunpost would drink with none of them.

"No, you bunch of bootlickers!" he shouted angrily, "go on away, I won't
have nothing to do with you! When I was broke you wouldn't treat me and
now that I'm flush I reckon I can buy my own liquor. You're all sucking
around old Eells, saying he made the town--I made your danged town
myself! Didn't I discover the Willie Meena--and ain't that what made the
town? Well, go chase yourselves, you suckers, I'm through with ye! You
did me dirt when you thought I